


1950s-esque ABO

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dark, F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, Girl Penis Lexa, Omega Clarke, Parody, dubcon, easily offended? not for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Omega Clarke is a supporter of the Omeganist movement, which seeks to raise Omega status in an Alpha dominated world. All she wants is to be a doctor, but Alpha politicians stand in her way. Will she ever achieve her dreams?Lexa is an Alpha tired of her wife's dreams. The best way to shut her up? Blast pheromones to turn her wife on then take her at the kitchen counter.Because who needs independent Omegas? It ain't even in their biology, pssshhh





	1950s-esque ABO

Ugh, work is such a hassle. The only thing I have to look forward to after a day at the office is my wife's slick cunt. And if she ain't ready? Well, the slut will be. Once I force my Alpha pheromones into the air to get the little bitch wet.

Because, as much as Clarke wants to go out on her own and be a doctor (which is an Alpha-dominated field, mind), the Omega bitch needs to be reminded that providing for our family is MY job. Alphas are the breadwinners, Omegas are the babymakers. Sorry, Hun, but that's basic ABO 101. Maybe if Omegas were allowed to go to school, the dumb bitch would know that's how the world works. Albiet, thankfully, the world don't work that way.

Alphas run the world. It's a tough job she would never be able to handle. Especially since her heat would turn her into a slut and all the Alphas in the medical field into sperm-dumping fuck machines. So better the Alphas keep their place in Alpha-dominated fields. Omegas would simply distract the Alphas. Which, considering Omegas are statistically weaker and stupider than Alphas anyway, would be a fucking ridiculous decision if allowed by our Alpha politicians. Really hope the Omeganists will stop burning their blood-soaked underwear and realize that Alphas are the dominant gender.

Fuck. This all has put me in such a foul mood, as I walk in and see my beautiful wife fixing supper in the kitchen. God, I really hope she gives up her dreams for me and the kids. She just won't cut it in the Alpha world. I really would rather she not be raped. I don't think I'd be able to deal with another Alpha putting their dick where only mine belongs.

"Hey, Darling," Clarke greets me over her shoulder, with that small smile I love so much as she flips the burgers in the pan. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," I grunt as I drop my suitcase and slouch in one of our dining room chairs. "Where are the pups?"

"Oh, they're out back, playing." She takes her spatula and presses it into one of the burgers. There's a long pause and shit, I just KNOW she's gonna work up a conversation to ask about puttin' the kids into some shitty daycare so she can follow her stupid 'dreams'. "So, I've been talkin' to my ma about becomin' a doctor…"

"Uh huh…" I glance out the window. The kids ARE busy playing. Good. I hate using my Alpha pheromones on Clarke when they're around. But the way this conversation is likely gonna go, I'm afraid I'll prolly have to use 'em.

"I know you don't like it… but my ma said I should be able to enroll in some schoolin' if the Omega's get their schoolin' privilege granted this go around. From the news, it really looks like we may get a chance." And here, she turns to me with wide blue eyes. And God, will I hate killin' her dreams once again, but what else am I suppose to do? Encourage this shitshot dream she has that will likely never happen? She must see something in my expression because she quickly turns back to the burgers, posture stiffening. "I may actually be able to start workin' towards my dream, Lexa. If them Alpha politicians just give my kind a fightin' chance… I think-"

I swiftly stand up from my chair, tired of hearing all about her dreams. Because dreams AREN'T reality. Why can't she see this? "Hun, don't be disappointing yourself." I step around the table slowly. "Alphas will never give Omegas a place in the workforce, or any field. And aren't you happy raisin' the pups at home anyway? Why would you want more? Am I not providing enough?"

"Why is this always about you?" She screeches, slamming the spatula down on the counter and turning on me with crazy eyes. And oh Lord, why are Omegas so fuckin' emotional? Couldn't God have given them some semblance of logic? "This?" And here, she gestures at the walls and floors of the house. "I neva thought I'd be trapped here! All because I'm an Omega? I gotta be the perfect breeder, the perfect housewife?"

"Now, dear, you know I wasn't sayin' any of that-"

"But you are! All you Alphas are! Why must Omegas be trapped at home? What, we hafta wait for another war to prove what we're capable of?"

I can't help but hold back an eyeroll and sigh. "You know that ain't what I'm sayin'. And either way, Omegas can't help their-"

"Biology?" She screeches. "Alphas can't either, you idiot! Why are Omegas constantly held back by biology, when Alphas have just as much trouble as Omegas?! Maybe if the medical community gave one iota more care for the Omegas, we'd also have some suppressors to deal with these biological issues!"

"Enough!" I growl, tired of hearing my Omega bitch pratter on. When would she realize that we were different for a reason? "You need a good fuck, don't you, wife?"

"No, don't do this, Lexa."

Even from her begging and wide eyes, I could tell she wanted this. Could smell it. "But I am," I purr, stepping closer. Forcing my pheromones out into the air. Oh, she's getting wetter. "This is your place, Clarke. Just accept it and let ME take care of our family."

"Lexa, please stop." I can smell the tears and arousal even over the overpowering scent of the burning burgers, as she turns away. Gripping the counter, her body shaking. "You don't hafta do this. Please."

"But I do, love." I press myself to her back, eyeing the bite mark upon her neck. "You belong to me. And I won't let any of your stupid dreams place you in a position where another will try to lay claim to you."

She's sobbing now, but submissive, like the good Omega she is. I won't allow the politicians and Omega movement to pollute her pretty little head.

And as I slide my hand beneath her skirt to push aside her panties, unzip my fly to line up my cock, I look out the window to my pups.

It's about time I fill her stomach with another one, so her little Omega instincts will be too preoccupied with motherhood once again to wonder what could be.

And what never should be.


End file.
